Reaching Out
by Mirabella Motz
Summary: Celeste's supposed father is a crazed former Nazi. He still thinks World War II is going on and does experiments on his only two test subjects left: Celeste and her only friend Acidic.


Reaching Out

I stared at the cold white tiles on the floor of my room. The scenes of today's horrific events play on a continuous basis. A man with long brown hair and wearing a stained, off-white labcoat stood in a dank old room. A small, silver table and a houseplant were the only other items in the room. The floors, grey linoleum, had mysterious-looking green splotches. I knew those splotches well, unfortunately. The walls held no windows and only a small, cherry-maple door held a glimmer of hope and escape.

"We will begin a new experiment tomorrow, dear," the man in the labcoat spoke….my supposed father. "You must get prepped."

I knew what that meant….the green, acidic bath that burned my skin and stained my clothes and hair. I stood and watched the father with fear, most likely evident, on my face.

"Please, no more. It hurts," I pleaded with a weak, under-used voice.

"NO! The experiment must go as planned!" he yelled furiously at me.

He ducked out the door and, as fast as I could manage with my bandages, I followed. I didn't make it in time.

The father hit the switch and the green acid-like mixture fell on me. The pain wasn't what hurt the most, though it hurt quite a lot. It was the feeling of being unloved by the person I wanted to love the most….my father.

The rattling of the air vent snapped me back into reality. Acidic should be coming back anytime soon. I knew that he would need a shower as soon as he came in, as he would have had an acid bath also. I grabbed a towel and set it on the twin bed on the other side of the room. The institution, or what was left of it had assigned the test subjects to this room, but only Acidic and I are left.

My name is Celeste, or rather that is what my "father" calls me. I used to be the only one left until Acidic came along. I didn't mind so much having to share the room, seeing as Acid kept me company. We could sit and talk the world away during the days we were locked up; the days in between experiments.

The door slammed open and Acid was shoved in. He stood shivering, his skin now sensitive to the elements. I ran up to him, and peeled off the remains of his shirt. His chest, although perfectly structured, held scars of previous experiments. I did what he would do with me; I took him into the bathroom that used to be used by all of the test subjects. I started up the shower and he clambered in. I knew how he felt, the nice cool water running over the skin, soothing the burns of the acid. I waited, humming a uniform tune, the only kind of music I was used to.

The water turned off and I stopped humming. The only sound that echoed in the sterile environment was the heavy sound of pained breathing.

"Acidic?" I asked, concern making my voice weak.

"Yeah?" Came his voice, he masked his pain with expertise.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to get you some clothes?" I questioned.

"Yes, That would be nice." He said.

I got up and went to the adjoining room. I fished out the only other pair of clothes he had. It was a patched up white button up and a pair of worn jeans. I took the pile of clothes back to him and waited for him to get dressed. Again the uniform tune floated into my brain and I hummed. That was the only thing to pass the time in the institution. Climbing out of the shower, Acid stood smiling.

"I love that song." He said, in his normal cheerful attitude, "Of course that's the only one we know."

I giggled and we walked to the bedroom. Acid lounged on his bed and grinned.

"One day, I want to learn all of the songs in the world." He said. "That way you can have something to actually sing."

I blushed furiously. My voice wasn't all that good, or rather, I didn't think so. Acidic on the other hand loved my voice and often made up songs for me to sing.

"Yeah, as soon as we get out of this damn place." I said harshly.

He chuckled and rolled over. I knew he was tired; I was too. The pre-experiment tests and acidic bath always did that to us. I laid down on my bad and as soon as my head hit the pillow, my brain gave way to the peaceful wishes and dreams of sleep.


End file.
